Painting Desire
by Aizawa Minami
Summary: Margaret Burton undergoes her unsure desire of anguish if she truly loves Madlax or not. Yuri, Madlax/Margaret


Painting Desire

"Margaret," she whispers, standing near me—her left hand on my face, while the other seems to travel elsewhere. There she had smiled only briefly.

"Paint me."

To me, that was an odd request, I have painted something, yes—but _never _had I wanted to paint _someone_.

She looks at me straight in the eye—her face lowered down. Then, before I even knew it, she kissed me. Feeling another person's lips was a little more different—yes, I have had a few kisses with my boyfriend, Carrossea Doon—but it was more different.

Madlax's kiss was more gentle and soft—passionate, but it was not rushed or hurried like Carrosea's—whom he was quite hasty on the subject of sex.

She smiles a little; her long index finger traced the outline of my face as she whispers in an eerie manner, "Paint me, Margaret, please."

I looked at her only once; my expression was nothing more than desperation—as if I _wanted _this situation to become sexual—when I could as if I can burst in open air.

"I-I can't! Not right now, Madlax!"

She looks at me once again. This time, it was a little more like a smirk. Her thumb brushing my lips attentively, she kissed my cheek and let out a small chuckle.

"The door, close it."

"But… Elenore… she will—"

"The door—that way… no one has to hear or see."

"But…!"

"Margaret, the door,"

Her tone had sharp edge to it, which it made me flinch in the slightest whimper coming from my mouth.

Reluctantly and emotionally, I walked to the white wooden door and locked it. Hearing the lock click, I could not help but to feel intense at this moment—where Madlax stood half-nude on the veranda—the open space outside—my own art studio that father gave me after he died…

"Now," she began, her eyes fixating on my nervous posture, seeing that my hands are already shaking due to the preparation of what _true _artists go through—their first time of drawing a nude person—when it was highly possibly to go through a mad-driven affair.

"How should I pose? With the sheets on myself, sitting down, or what?"

"Just stand over there,"

Madlax smiled, "I am going to undress now, are you prepared?" I grew furious and aggravated, as well as tempted.

"Do you want me to draw you or not?"

"Yes, very much!"  
I sighed my shoulders slumped. Taking small, deep breaths to calm myself down—what is the worst that could happen?

I peered at her, very much ashamed. My face grew hot within each passing moment. My pencil on the blank easel—that I peered for maximum seconds, my pencil made movements to the paper. I was clearly working more on her face—drawing the sensual lips, her hair, and her eyes that were the most beautiful of azure.

Then, I started to work more on the rest—the lead made quick sketches, then much darker, smoother lines to add feminine sense.

When I started to draw her like this for the first time in my life—my pencil and paper at hand—it felt like as if I was touching her in real life—my pencil started to draw out her womanly features, then I started to hesitate on this.

"What is wrong, Margaret? Should I tell you to stop?"

I did not listen. Instead, I came to the verge of tears—literally, dropping my pencil and went down to my knees, soaking myself into deep sobs.

"_I-I can't!_" I bawled. "_I don't want to do this! Elenore does not know of this, and I can't keep hurting her!_"

I cried very hard—my hands buried on my face—there, I can see Madlax wanted me to look at her.

"Margaret, please," she pleaded. "I don't want to hurt her either, if you wanted me to stop—then tell me to stop—that is all."

I looked up to her. My emerald eyes were so blurry because I could not concentrate on the subject—no matter how much I try to stop it.

She grabbed my shoulders. Very gently, she lowers herself to me once more—her lips merely inches away from mine.

Without a single thought or hesitation going through my mind, I brought them closer—now, the kiss felt hot and heavy—that it was… my body could not handle it as well.

"Am I… am I really…?"

Then again… before even to finish my cowardly sentences, I could feel her hands behind my back—unhooking my bra and feeling my small breasts become free—where the cold air started to strike at my erect peaks.

I cried out. Feeling Madlax's naked body over mine—she hugs me for I would not feel as lonely anymore.

In those days of being apart for so long, Madlax was always at war—and here at home, in the company of Vanessa and Elenore, I felt like as if she was barely alive.

I moaned softly, tears streamed from my navy eyes, my small, thin hands in her long, _chatlin _hair—it was very strong and healthy.

Her toned arms made me feel so safe and vulnerable—that way, I would be happy around her.

"Margaret… if I make you feel uncomfortable… just tell me when to stop… okay?"

I nodded swiftly. Her lips kissed my cheek—then to my lips. I could feel her tongue probing inside of my mouth—wanting to feel the tip of my tongue along with her own—it was very needy yet I have let her done so.

Then again, I have let her tongue go inside—there, I have touched her tongue—I shivered, my body trembled heavily over one, simple kiss that was very passionate and strong.

She smiles once more, before she lowers herself even more—to my small, perked breasts that she had savored from time to time.

She chuckles briefly as she nuzzles onto them—exhaling warm air from her mouth, then kissing the left lightly, while the pinching the other—groping and stroking it with such care—I thought I had died and went to Heaven.

"Madlax, please!" I cried, more tears came out and I whimpered—her head lowering farther—kissing under my breast and gently nibbling on my erect flesh.

The mercenary I once knew… tugged at it—not hard—but it felt so good… her teeth nibbling and suckling it—I forced her to look at me in the eye.

We both looked. Soft, warm smiles tugged at our lips. Our foreheads touched and yet, she kissed my cheek again.

I looked at what she was doing—her hands at my sides, her tongue stroking my navel. I gasped lightly. I started to strain myself from keeping anything pleasurable for anyone to notice or hear.

"Margaret… its okay to make noise…"

I can hear Madlax's soothing voice in my ears, that it sounds very melodic, enchanting, and sensual…

She continued her oral ministrations until she touched the essential part of my life. She looks up to me one last time before doing so.

She giggled slightly as she lowered herself there—her nose inhaling my sensitive areas like it was the sweetest thing she had ever smelt in her life.

My back arched dramatically when she came to taste it. That is where I started feel _something _inside of me, thunder and lightning, my shivering gasps came to grow louder and louder within each second.

"_M-M-Madlaaaaxxx!_" I wailed immensely, closing my eyes shut, my chest heaving from the hardness of my own breathing, my muscles tensed for a moment—then they started to ease a moment later.

I heard panting. I could not tell whether it was she or I. From what I can tell… it was the both of us.

We lied there for a while, basking in each other's arms like there was not a care in the world.

Then, I began to feel something on my face. Small, droplets of rain came down upon us. I did not frown—but I smiled. My eyes flickering to see the face of my lover, Madlax seems to be so strong like this—always being optimistic and sometimes serious on a current situation—whether it was good or bad.

"Madlax…" I began to say in a hesitant manner, my hand on her chest, while the other was propped to hold the side of my head.

She opens her eyes slightly—they seem to be much drowsed, in a daydreaming state to say.

"Yes, Margaret?" she asked in a calm whisper that slowly eludes into blissful state, her hand rested on my brown head—stroking it gently with such care that made me go onto the verge of tears.

"I just wanted to say how much I have missed you these past two years—it has been so long."  
She smiles slightly, leaning herself forward to give me yet another kiss—one that slow and desirable.

Of course, I did not want anything more than to stay at Madlax's side—that is what I desired the most.

"I love you…"


End file.
